Rubatosis
by Sweet Lunacy
Summary: All he wants is to keep her safe. Sequel to Petrichor. Definitely recommend reading that one first. Jibbs. Deals with self-harm. Rated for mature content. Oneshot.


**A/N: This is a sequel to _Petrichor_. If you haven't read that, I highly suggest you read that first. I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

**Rubatosis (n): The unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat**

* * *

The last thing he expected to see when he walked in his house was his boss/lover waiting for him on his couch, looking even more beautiful than she had when he'd seen her two hours earlier.

"Jenny? What are you doing here?"

The redhead in question simply shrugged.

"Am I not allowed to visit?"

He made his way over to the couch, sitting next to her and kissing her cheek. She smiled and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Long day?"

She nodded and he ran his hand lightly over her hair.

"Drink?"

She nodded again and he stood to get her a glass. When he turned back around, he noticed how pale she was and was immediately concerned.

"Jen? You okay?"

She nodded, but he wasn't sure if he believed her. As he handed her the glass of bourbon, he was aware of just how much her hands were shaking.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Jen."

She sighed and looked at him with an exhaustion he could almost feel.

"I just don't feel well. Probably just a cold."

She took a drink and began coughing before she could even completely swallow. Finally, she was able to catch her breath and he positioned her so that her head was resting in his lap.

"Get some rest. Please."

Without protesting, Jenny closed her eyes and as he watched her sleep minutes later, Gibbs placed a hand on her forehead. She was warm, and at his touch, she shifted. She was paler than fresh snow and when he picked her up to carry her to the bedroom, she didn't even move. He placed her in between the cool sheets and kissed her cheek lightly, closing the door behind him as he left. Hopefully, it was nothing serious.

* * *

As soon as Jenny opened her eyes, she knew something was wrong. Her head was pounding and there was a fog in her head that no matter what she did, she couldn't clear. She had no idea where she was, but she was so exhausted that she didn't even care. She closed her eyes and fell back into a restless sleep.

* * *

Gibbs opened his unused bedroom door and smiled sadly when he saw Jenny's sleeping form. After browsing through the drawers, he pulled out an old NIS sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants. He carefully lifted her body and unzipped the skirt she'd been wearing and slid it down her legs. As much as he tried not to, he couldn't help but notice the mostly-healed cuts that adorned her thighs and he frowned. She was so beautiful, and he couldn't understand how she didn't see how amazing she was.

He put the sweatpants on her gently and the shirt came next, nearly swallowing her smaller frame. He couldn't stop the smile that came to his face as he admired the way she looked in his bed, in his clothes. She was still burning up and he closed the door when he went downstairs to get a cold cloth to place on her skin. He wasn't sure if it would help, but it couldn't hurt to try.

"Jethro?"

He turned at the sound of her voice, thick with sleep and confusion, and smiled.

"Hey."

"How long have I been here?"

"Few hours," he answered, handing her a glass of water.

He couldn't tear his eyes away from her. Hair tousled from sleep, makeup slightly smeared around her eyes, all but floating in his clothes...she looked absolutely gorgeous.

"What?" she asked warily.

"Nothing. Just admiring the view."

She glanced down and smiled softly.

"Did you do this?"

A smirk was her only answer.

* * *

Mid-sentence, Jenny threw her hand over her mouth and bolted to the bathroom. Gibbs watched her when she returned and she sank tiredly onto the couch, pushing her hair back from her face.

"Maybe you should go to a doctor, Jen."

She shook her head and sighed.

"I'll be okay. I think I just need to sleep."

She stood and made her way upstairs, pausing to kiss him lightly. He watched her walk away and couldn't help the feeling of dread that filled him as she disappeared into the darkness. After a moment of debating with himself, he followed her, hoping that maybe being near her would help ease the feeling that he couldn't quite shake.

* * *

Twenty minutes before his alarm was scheduled to ring, Gibbs was woken by a violent retching sound coming from the bathroom in the hall. Rubbing his eyes, he made his way to the door and pushed it open slowly.

"Jen?"

She turned to face him, her eyes filled with tears and her head fell onto her chest in exhaustion.

"I take it you still don't feel well?"

She shook her head and he knelt down to gather her hair behind her. He kissed the side of her head gently and she glanced up at him.

"When was the last time you had anything to eat?"

"Jethro, I can't even _think_ about food right now."

"That's not what I asked."

She shrugged.

"A few days."

"A few _days_? Christ, Jen. No wonder you're sick. You have to eat something."

Jenny opened her mouth to answer, but before she could speak, she was violently sick again, her entire body shaking as she leaned over the porcelain bowl. After rinsing her mouth, she collapsed against his chest and he hooked her legs under his arms, carrying her back into the bedroom. He placed her on the bed and pulled out his phone, causing her to frown.

"Who are you calling?" she asked hoarsely.

"Cynthia. You're not going in to work today."

"Gibbs-"

"Cynthia, it's Gibbs. The Director won't be in today. She's not feeling well."

He continued speaking for a moment and when he hung up, Jenny glared at him.

"You had no right to do that."

"Jen, you're in no condition to go to work. I'll take care of everything for one day."

"You're not staying?"

He smirked.

"Nope. Someone has to work around here."

He kissed her before getting dressed and she frowned.

"Too bad. I would have enjoyed spending all day in bed with you."

"Get some rest, Jen. I'll see you after work."

* * *

Though he knew there was something that he should probably be working on, Gibbs couldn't tear his thoughts away from Jenny. He knew she was probably asleep, but still he worried. She wasn't sick often, and he couldn't help but wonder if it was serious.

"Something bothering you, boss?"

"Yeah, you're asking me questions instead of working, DiNozzo."

"Right. Sorry, boss."

His phone rang sharply and when he answered it, he was a bit more harsh than he had intended.

"Gibbs."

"Is everything okay, Jethro?"

"Yes. Miraculously, we can survive without you for one day."

"Good to know. I might have to start taking more days off. This is nice."

He could hear the smile in her voice and laughed.

"Have a good day, Jethro. I love you."

He didn't say it back, but he knew she didn't expect him to. Not while he was working. When he hung up, he could feel Tony's eyes on him and turned.

"Was that Director Shepard?"

"Yep. Calling to check up on us."

"She sick?"

Gibbs frowned, determined not to break his cover.

"Probably out shopping for all I know."

Tony laughed.

"What is it about women and shopping?"

"No idea."

* * *

What seemed like an eternity later, Gibbs was finally heading home and he couldn't wait to see Jenny. She was in the kitchen when he opened the door and he smiled when she handed him a beer, taking a long drink. She was still dressed in his clothing, but some of her colour appeared to have returned.

"Are you feeling better?"

She nodded and took a sip of her own drink.

"How was work?"

"Nearly killed DiNozzo."

"How?"

"Thought about suffocating him so he'd shut up."

Jenny laughed and kissed him across the table.

"Well, Agent Gibbs, since you were so considerate and helpful to me last night...and considering you didn't kill DiNozzo, I have something for you."

"Oh?"

She took his hand and led him from the kitchen. Her eyes had somehow darkened and the look she gave him was full of promise.

"Absolutely. You've earned a reward."

He allowed himself to be pulled up the stairs and when she kissed him inside the doorway, he pushed her body into the frame. Her head slammed into the doorway and he couldn't tell if the moan that came from her was caused by pain or pleasure.

"You okay?"

She nodded and pulled him closer, her teeth grazing over his bottom lip. He growled low in his throat and bit down lightly on her pulse point. She cried out and her head once again hit the door frame. Her hands threaded into his hair and he jerked the hem of her (his) shirt up and pulled it over her head. He tossed it to the floor without a second thought and she did the same with the shirt he wore. Her nails raked over his skin and he slid his hand into her sweatpants, tugging them to the ground.

Jenny kicked the discarded clothing aside and he lifted her up, smirking as her legs wrapped around his waist. He was so tempted to take her right where they stood, her body trapped between his and the door, but he wanted her to be a bit more comfortable after being so ill the night before. He carefully tossed her onto the bed, and she laughed as her hair cascaded around her face.

"Are you sure you're well enough for this?"

His lips were warm against hers and she nodded.

"Don't you dare stop."

He kissed her again and her tongue danced across his bottom lip. He quickly undid the clasp on her bra and when his lips closed around her breast, she moaned. She kissed his throat, biting down every so often and he whispered her name in a way that made her head spin.

"J-Jethro?" her voice was breathless, hoarse.

"Hm?"

"Please..."

He removed the little clothing separating them and when he entered her, they both moaned. He moved quickly and his lips found her breast again. He pinned her wrists above her head and trailed kisses down her body, smirking as she tried in vain to touch him.

"Gibbs. Let me touch you."

"Patience, Jen."

He kissed her lips and he pulled her bottom lip between his teeth. She gasped and he could tell she was getting close. He released her hands and she pulled him closer, one hand in his hair, the other on his chest. As her orgasm hit her, she moaned and her grip in his hair tightened. He wasn't far behind her and he rested his head against hers, kissing her forehead breathlessly.

"I love you, Jen."

"I love you, too."

* * *

As Jenny slammed down her headset in her office, she fought the urge to scream in frustration. Why was it so hard for people to take her seriously? She was good at her job, she was under budget, she always did what was right...what more did they want? She could hear approaching footsteps and she sighed. She already had a pretty good idea of who it was, and she was frankly not in the mood.

"Director Shepard?"

She turned, surprised that it wasn't Gibbs who had spoken.

"Agent DiNozzo. What can I do for you?"

"Boss wanted me to give you this. Dossier on our dead petty officer."

Tony held out the folder and she took it, flipping through it briefly.

"Thank you, Agent DiNozzo. Anything else?"

"No, ma'am. Have a good weekend."

She smiled, nodding at him.

"You do the same, Tony."

He shut the door behind him and she pulled out a glass and filled it to the brim with bourbon. She downed it quickly, and switched on her computer. It was going to be a long night, and she wasn't sure if there was enough alcohol in the world to prepare her for the amount of work before her.

* * *

When Gibbs checked his watch, he had to check it twice just to make sure that he had read it correctly. 23:45 and Jenny still hadn't called him. It wasn't like her not to call even if it was just to say good night. He frowned and pulled out his cell phone, punching in Jenny's home number.

_You've reached Jennifer Shepard. Please leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can._

"Jen, it's late. Call me. Love you."

He tried her cell and received the same voicemail message, but he didn't bother leaving one of his own. Where was she? Sighing, he dialed her office number and was just about to give up when he heard a click.

"Shepard."

"Jen, are you seriously still working?"

"Yes, Jethro. Believe it or not, I do actually work in my office."

"It's 23:56, Jen."

"Is it?"

He could almost see her frown, could picture her in his mind, glasses in her hand, and he smiled. He heard a soft thud and frowned.

"What was that?"

"I set my glass down. Problem?"

"You're drinking?"

"I needed something to get me through this night."

He sighed. She really needed to slow down.

"I'm coming to get you."

"I can handle myself."

"It wasn't a suggestion."

He hung up and ran his hand through his hair. Grabbing his keys, he wondered sometimes if she wasn't deliberately trying to work herself to death.

* * *

"Jen?"

He glanced around at the amount of paperwork on her office desk and frowned. She held up a hand and gestured to the couch.

"Have a seat, Jethro. I'm almost finished."

He sat down on her couch, and watched her, fascinated. There was no evidence that she'd been drinking, save for the nearly empty bottle of whiskey, and he wasn't sure what to make of it. She should have been slurring her words, or at the very least swaying on her feet, but she was as calm as he'd ever seen her.

"Jen, I think you need to stop drinking. You should be on your ass right now, but you're not even phased."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Technically, I am on my ass," she quipped.

He rolled his eyes and a few moments later, she stood up and made her way to him. She sat next to him for a second before tipping over into his lap. He glanced down at her, amused, but frowned when he caught sight of her hands. Normally just as pale as the rest of her flawless skin, they were stained a reddish brown.

"Jen, what happened to your hands?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Your hands," he repeated.

She glanced down and frowned. She raised up from her position on his lap and he looked at her seriously.

"Take your jacket off," he said softly.

She did as he asked, looking more confused than ever. He was horrified to see dried blood staining her arms, and she raised troubled eyes to his.

"What did you do?" he whispered dangerously.

"Jethro, I...I don't remember doing this. I don't understand."

"I told you to talk to me."

She touched his arm pleadingly.

"I know. I really don't understand how this happened."

"Don't lie to me, Jen!"

He was yelling now, and he pulled away from her, standing as far away as possible in the small space.

"I'm not lying, Gibbs."

She took a step toward him, but the look in his eyes prevented her from moving any closer.

"Take a taxi home," he said shortly, "I'm done here."

He walked out of her office, not bothering to close the door and after a stunned second where she couldn't move, she rushed after him, calling his name from the top of the stairs.

"Gibbs, wait! Jethro! Please."

He turned just short of the elevator, waiting for the doors to open, and fixed her with the coldest look she'd ever seen.

"Goodbye, Director."

She stood frozen as the elevator doors closed on his face, and when she finally accepted that he was gone, her legs gave way and she collapsed on the floor, her hands shaking terribly.

* * *

Stumbling into her house hours later, Jen noticed the flickering light on her answering machine, signaling a message. As she pressed _play_, Jethro's voice filled the air, causing the breath to leave her lungs.

_Jen, it's late. Call me. Love you._

A strangled sob escaped her as it occurred to her that he was truly gone now. Somehow, she had royally messed up, and she didn't even remember how or when. She made her way into her bathroom and fixed her reflection with a glare.

"I hate you," she whispered to the woman in the mirror.

The image blurred with her tears and she ran a hand through her tangled hair. She smiled sadly. _He _had always loved her hair. He'd loved to run his fingers through it gently as she slept, as he kissed her, as they made love...she hated it. It was now nothing but a cruel reminder that he was through with her and all of her bullshit.

She searched frantically for the pair of scissors she kept under the sink and gathered her hair into a ponytail. She was distinctly aware of the beating of her own heart and she glanced once more at her reflection. Before she could lose her nerve, she began cutting away at the fiery tresses, hardly noticing when they fell to the ground. When the scissors fell from her numb hand minutes later, she sank to her knees, sobbing.

* * *

"Jethro, what a surprise. What can I do for you?"

"Need an opinion, Duck."

"Okay."

Gibbs paced around the autopsy room, trying to find the best way to word his question.

"Could someone injure themselves or someone else and later have no recollection of it, even if there was no trauma?"

The doctor frowned, thinking.

"Yes, it's possible. I presume there's a reason you're asking?"

He nodded once and Ducky continued.

"Would this have anything to do with our lovely Director?"

Gibbs sighed.

"Who told you?"

"No one, I just know how close you two used to be and I've noticed Jennifer's absence today. Did something happen to her?"

"Jenny's not here today?"

Ducky shook his head.

"Her car wasn't here when I arrived, and she's always the first person here in the morning. I assumed she was ill."

"She had cuts on her arms last night. I asked her about them, and she said she didn't know where they came from. She didn't remember."

Ducky watched him as he continued to pace and pulled off his glasses, cleaning them.

"Do you believe her?"

Gibbs was silent for a long moment.

"I don't know."

"Did she seem sincere?"

"Yes."

"Then I'd be inclined to believe her. Jennifer isn't one to lie about something like that."

Gibbs considered this, and clapped Ducky on the shoulder as he left autopsy. Perhaps he was right. Maybe he had overreacted. He pulled out his cell and punched in Jenny's number, hoping she wasn't sick.

"Shepard."

"You sick?"

"Gibbs?"

She sounded as though she had been crying and he frowned.

"You're not at work."

"Really? Never would have guessed," she snapped.

"Are you sick?"

"No, Agent Gibbs, I'm not sick. I'm entitled to take a day off if I choose. I don't have to answer to you."

The resounding click in his ear told him that she had hung up. He sighed and made his way back to his desk, wondering if there was possibly a way to fix what he had so badly messed up.

* * *

When he saw her next, he could hardly contain his shock at her appearance. Gone was the long flaming hair he had loved so much, and in it's place was a harsh short cut that just looking at it made his heart break. He didn't comment on it however, and instead focused on the case at hand. If she didn't want to see him, he wouldn't see her either.

He caught glimpses of her throughout the day, usually with a drink in her hand and he frowned. It seemed that she hadn't heeded his advice on the matter, but it didn't matter. She looked so different with her newly chopped hair, and he wondered what had inspired that decision.

Knocking on her door, but without waiting for a response, Jethro opened it and when she saw him, she jumped.

"Can I help you, Agent Gibbs?"

"I need security tapes, and you're the only one with enough clearance to get them."

She nodded, fixing him with her tired eyes as he closed the door.

"I'll get back to you when I can."

"I need them now, Jen."

She glared at him.

"I'll get them to you when I can, Agent Gibbs. And it's Director Shepard or ma'am."

He sighed, making his way closer to her desk, examining her closely. There were dark circles under her eyes, made more prominent by her pale skin, and she seemed much thinner than she had a few days ago.

"Come on, Jen. Talk to me."

"I tried. You wouldn't listen to me. I looked you straight in the eyes, told you the truth, and you still didn't believe me."

"I know. I was wrong. I'm sorry."

His voice was soft and he walked around to the back of her chair and placed his hands on her shoulders. She stiffened at his touch at first, but soon relaxed into him.

"I don't want to fight with you, Jethro."

"Then don't. I know I was wrong. I believe you. Please, Jen. Look at me."

She tipped her head back and looked up into his eyes. What she saw there was enough to make her spin her chair around and face him.

"You believe me?"

"Yes."

"Why don't I remember, Jethro?"

He knelt down so that he was level with her and sighed.

"I don't know. That's not important right now."

She closed her eyes, willing the tears not to fall and stood up. He opened his arms and she fell into them, breathing in his scent and smiled.

"Help me. Please."

He kissed the top of her hair and pushed her away so he could look at her. He kissed her gently and when he cupped her cheek, he brushed away a stray tear.

"I promise. I love you."

"You're not leaving?"

He shook his head.

"Jen?"

"Yes?"

"Why did you cut your hair?"

She sighed, running her fingers through the short strands.

"Because it reminded me of you."

'It needs a test run."

"A what?"

He kissed her and wound his fingers into her hair. She fought the desire to moan as she knew that Cynthia would be able to hear her and kissed him back more desperately than she ever had before. He lifted her onto her desk and while he would have liked to tip her backward, there wasn't enough room. He tugged lightly on her hair and she gasped into his mouth.

"J-Jethro...we—we have to stop," she whispered, though it was the last thing she wanted.

"In a minute," he answered, pushing her skirt up.

When his fingers slid into her, she couldn't stop herself from crying out against his lips any more than she could stop the jerk of her body.

"Hush," he whispered.

She whimpered, wanting to scream his name, wanting to beg him to stop, or keep going, she didn't even know anymore. He curled his fingers and touched her expertly, and when he felt her walls tightening around them, he smiled as he kissed her. Her sharp intake of breath was swallowed by his lips and she held onto him for dear life.

"D-don't stop," she whispered.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he murmured into her ear.

Her hips met his every thrust, grinding into his hand, and her entire body shook as she came undone with each touch of his fingers. When he finally stopped touching her, he kissed her slowly, pulling her up from the desk.

"Jethro?"

"Yeah?"

"Next time...let's use the couch."

He laughed and held her against his chest. She took a deep breath, her lungs filling with the scent of bourbon and sawdust, a smell that was so uniquely _Gibbs_ that she had it memorised.

"Do you have any idea how much I love you?"

"Hm...I'm not sure," she answered with a smile.

"Remind me to tell you sometime."

He placed a kiss on her hair and frowned.

"Jen?"

"What?"

He paused and she glanced up at him curiously.

"I hate your hair."

* * *

**A/N: I hated Jenny's hair the first few episodes after she cut it. Once it wasn't sticking up everywhere and they calmed it down, I could tolerate it. Still like the long hair much better on her, though. Anyway, let me know what you think.**


End file.
